Electricity
by Fidelian
Summary: ONESHOT. Everytime Hermione and Ron accidentally touch each other, the air crackles. Pure fluff! RHr, mention of HG. R&R!


Hermione snapped her knee away as it brushed against his.

She was frustrated, there was no other way to describe it.

And, as she glanced up at her best friend, she could see that he was feeling something rather like it. His ears were a magnificent red, they seemed to be that colour permanently nowadays, and his jaw was clenched.

Hermione's knee started bobbing up and down.

"Honestly, you two," said their best mate, sitting across from them in the Gryffindor common room. "Would you please help me? I have no buggering clue why a bezoar tastes like dragon's saliva." He paused and looked up at them. As he took in their faces and started chuckling, Hermione had a sudden urge to kick him. Somewhere it would really, _really_ hurt him.

"Don't swear," she said instead, through gritted teeth. He just nodded with an amused grin and went back to his parchment.

She, again, looked up at the redhead sitting next to her, and caught him staring at her. He quickly averted his eyes. Her knee was now jumping up and down at an almost frantic pace. She nearly lost her breath when she felt a big hand on her thigh.

"Would you please stop doing that?" It was him, looking at her with eyes that were dark with something, his voice oddly hoarse. "I'm starting to panic here."

She nodded, swallowed, and picked up her quill.

Why was he sitting so close to her? Concentrate, Granger. A bezoar tastes like dragon's saliva because... dragon's saliva has a healing power... no, that's not it. She flipped a page in her Potions book. They had a calming effect. No. Oh, Merlin, Snape was going to kill her. Why was Ron's hand lying so close to hers on the table? Their hands almost crackled with electricity. If she could just reach out and... No. Concentrate. Bezoar. Dragon's saliva. Bugger! She couldn't.

She sighed loudly and put her head on the table. Why was it so hard? It was that tall, clumsy boy. He had put a spell of some sort on her! She turned her head to glare at him. Damn Ron Weasley, with those amazing eyes, cute freckles, gentle hands... No, no, no! She would never get anything done if she kept mooning over this... this... _"Boy."_

Two pair of eyes snapped to her, and she realized she had as good as spat the word out. She glanced at Ron, making him nervously avert his eyes once again. Harry seemed to stifle a laugh, and then the only sounds in the common room was the crackling from the fireplace and the gentle scratches from two quills. No, it was only one.

Hermione frowned and looked up. Harry looked like he was concentrating hard, scribbling fast on his almost full parchment. She turned to Ron. Once again, he was observing her.

"What?" She was beginning to get truly annoyed with her own feelings, the ones that that _boy _made her feel.

"Nothing." He went back to his parchment, but didn't start writing.

"Need any help?" She was just polite. Helping a friend with homework trouble. Her specialty, for Merlin's sake.

"Sure." His voice was hoarse again. Hermione leaned over his parchment, her shoulder brushing against his arm. She could hear him swallow.

Then she realised she couldn't see what he had written properly. She would have to... move closer. Oh, my.

She slowly glided closer to him. Their thighs were now flushed against each other. It was almost painful.

_Teenage hormones,_ she chanted to herself in her mind. _Teenage hormones, teenage hormones._

"What, uh... is the problem?" she whispered. Why was she whispering? It was only the three of them there.

"I... I... I can't... remember." His eyes weren't on her or the essay, they were everywhere but.

She almost giggled. Maybe he was feeling it, too. She looked him over. His jaw was so clenched it almost looked painful, his hands were fists, his eyes firmly attached on the wall behind Harry, his ears a bright and shining red. Suddenly, his eyes went to Hermione.

"We haven't done rounds tonight," he blurted. "We should."

He was quite right, although they weren't assigned to do any rounds tonight. The younger prefects had taken care of it.

"You know, we actually haven't," she smiled. "It couldn't hurt. You don't mind, Harry?"

Harry's lips were pursed so hard they were a ghostly white. "Sure," he whimpered, trying desperately not to laugh.

Ron stood and walked towards the portrait hole. Hermione moved to do the same, but was stopped when Harry tugged the arm of her robes.

"Good luck," he winked at her, not caring about the appalled look on her face. "I'll go to bed now, I think. 'Night, Ron!"

"'Night." Ron didn't even turn around.

The only thing stopping Hermione from feeling positively giddy, was the nervousness that were shooting through her body.

_It's just rounds,_ she told herself.

It hurt to admit it.

-------------------

The silence between them was unbelievably awkward. Every glance, every accidental touch was like a flood of emotions, and it made Hermione's head hurt.

She looked up at him. He looked determined. Then his face softened and he looked down at her, with something in his eyes. Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she'd seen it there before on some occasion. Like when she sneezed and he laughed and said "Bless you!" in that way only he could, or when she had ink all over her fingers and he fetched her a tissue with that lopsided grin.

It made her heart melt, literally.

She was just starting to enjoy the silence, when they opened the door to their Transfiguration classroom. In there, they found Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown in a heavy snog session. On McGonnagall's desk, nonetheless!

"What the –" she blurted out, before she felt a hand over her mouth and an arm sneaking around her waist and pulling her out of the room.

When the door had closed safely, she brushed herself out of Ron's arms and turned on him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she nearly shouted. "We're Head Boy and Girl, we're supposed to make sure that everyone's in bed now!"

He quieted her with a finger on her lips. It burned her.

"Hermione," he said in a low voice. "We're not on duty. And I would personally never be able to look neither Seamus nor Lavender in the eye again, if they knew I'd seen them... _like that._"

He slowly took his finger away, and Hermione instantly missed the burning.

"So, what do you say if we just kept walking instead?" She still wasn't convinced. "Please?"

That did it. She pouted, but nodded and they continued in silence.

They had gone on for about half an hour in silence, his presence almost enough to make Hermione dizzy, when Ron suddenly stopped and turned around to her.

"Should we look if anyone's in the Room of Requirement?"

Hermione nodded, unsure. "I reckon we should."

She didn't want to. When they walked in, the room would look either like he or she wanted it to look. She didn't want him to see how she wished it could be. Her thoughts went back to the way Seamus and Lavender had been devouring each other, moaning softly. He _definitely _mustn't see what the room would look like if her conscience would create one.

They stood next to each other, facing the empty wall that would soon hold a door. She tried to think of something boring, like a library or a classroom, something Ron wouldn't find suspicious. A door suddenly appeared, but she didn't know whether she had done it, or Ron. She felt him glance at her and then he turned the doorknob.

It was the Great Hall, looking exactly as it did their fourth year. Exactly like it did at the Yule Ball. It was empty of people, and soft music was coming from nowhere as snowflakes fell softly above them.

Hermione gasped and turned to Ron, who was blushing madly.

"Did you do this?" she whispered.

He winced and nodded slowly, closing his eyes with a pained expression on his face. Hermione walked through the huge hall, stopping in the middle.

"But why?" She was breathless.

He just shook his head, glancing down at his feet. "Damn it," he muttered.

She suddenly became very nervous. What did this mean? Did he really care for her the way she did for him? Did his skin burn everytime they touched, and crawl everytime they didn't?

He was still standing at the door, looking at his feet miserably. She walked up to him, chucking at his chin until their eyes met.

"Why, Ron?" Her voice was soft, and a bit vulnerable.

She saw him swallow, and were his eyes... were they _moist?_

"It... it was the worst night of my life."

Her heart jumped a beat when she saw it in his eyes. Sadness and regret. She put two fingers gently to rest on his cheek. "It was?"

He nodded. "I lost you. And I gained you."

Now she felt confused. "What do you mean?"

When he didn't answer, she repeated the question, but he just shrugged her off and went to stand at another part of the hall. "Why is this door here?" he suddenly asked. "I've never noticed it before."

Hermione walked up to him, frowning. "That's because it doesn't exist in the real Great Hall."

He didn't glance at her as he opened it carefully and peeked inside. "Oh, Merlin," he gasped, and Hermione shoved him out of the way to look inside.

It was a train compartment on the Hogwarts Express. But not any compartment, it was the one they had been sitting in the first time they travelled to Hogwarts. Where they first had met.

This time it was Ron's turn to look dumbstruck. "Hermione?" he asked, breathlessly. "Was this you? I mean, did you? Do you know -?"

She put up a hand to stop his rambling. "Yes, yes. This was my thought when we stood outside. The first time I met you."

He looked at her in awe. "Why?"

To this, she could do nothing but snort. "Because it has been the most important moment of my life, so far."

He kept staring at her, his mouth slightly open.

"What?" she said.

He didn't answer her, he just walked to stand in front of her, gently caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. She was sure her cheek was on fire, and her knees started shaking. Ron snapped his hand away and took a step back, both of them breathing deeply.

"What's wrong?" She felt a sudden sinking feeling, did he not want to touch her?

"That was... intense," he said, still taking deep breaths. "It felt like my hand was on fire, and it spread through my whole body and –" He suddenly stopped, going quite red in the face. "It was really intense."

Hermione nodded, relief washing over her. God, just a touch from him made her whole body melt down. Didn't he know that? "I know what you mean," she said in a low voice, putting a hand where his had been just a moment ago. It prickled lightly. "Your touch... it's like electricity."

"What do you reckon that means, then?" He was looking at her now, a peculiar look on his face. Like he had never been more nervous than this very moment his whole life.

"I don't know."

His eyes went to the floor and he stood up. "Well, I think I do."

Hermione froze. Did he mean...?

He walked to her, grazing her cheek once again. "I love it. I love the way the air crackles everytime I accidentally touch you. I love the way it burns when I know you're watching me, and when you click your tongue at something stupid I just said. I love our eleclitrity."

"Electricity," Hermione corrected him hoarsely. His words had sent her tumbling down into a state of pure bliss.

He laughed huskily. "Whatever."

Her eyes widened as he cupped both of her cheeks, making her face warm. He looked at her with dazed eyes, slowly leaning down. She stood on her tiptoes to meet him halfway and their lips locked in the tenderest of kisses. He brushed his lips over hers, making her shudder and grip his shoulders. Then he pulled back, grinning and taking shallow breaths.

She was sure that if he hadn't been holding her, she would be on the train floor now. Her eyes slowly opened to meet his, and he had never been more beautiful. On instinct, she leaned up to kiss him again, this time with a bit more force. The air around them started to crackle with the power that was just theirs and they smiled against each other's lips.

"Ron," she uttered in a low murmur, without really realising she did. He growled and pulled her closer, and she marvelled at how well their bodies seemed to mold together, before crashing her mouth against his.

He took her lower lip into his mouth and sucked at it, making Hermione moan. It only seemed to encourage him and he let his hands roam across the length of her sides. Hermione acted on pure instinct and pressed on the back of his head to get him even closer.

When his tongue begged for entrance to her mouth, she was only too happy to oblige, and he took full advantage of it. Her mind seemed to go numb when she felt the taste of him for the first time, it was the most wonderful thing she had ever felt.

This wasn't a bit like how she had imagined it. It was a million times better. He seemed to think the same if his eagerness was any proof. Suddenly, it got tender once again, and she felt his tongue grazing the top of her mouth gently, like he was savouring the taste of her. She smiled against his lips, and in a moment of braveness, slipped her hands under his shirt.

Ron let out a small moan as she let her hands wander over his chest, marvelling at the subtle muscles she could feel there, flexing with her hands. She raked her nails over his back and he seemed to lose his balance for a moment, sending them both sprawling to the floor.

She landed on top of him, instantly burying her hands in his hair as his lips left her. He planted small wet kisses across her jaw and stopped at her ear, making her whimper and lean her head to give him better access. He nibbled on her earlobe, letting it slip into his mouth and sucking at it. Hermione suddenly wanted to taste him again, so she gently but firmly pulled at his hair, making him take her mouth once again.

After a couple of more minutes in pure heaven, he abruptly pulled away, gasping for breath.

"Merlin," he said, his voice breaking. "That was... that was..."

"Perfect," Hermione filled in, snuggling his neck. He started breathing hackily again, entangling his hands in her hair.

"I've been wanting this for so long," he said. "I... I wanted you so much, but I never thought... I thought you..."

She looked up and met his eyes. They were filled with a sudden sadness.

"You thought what?" she prodded gently, brushing away a strand of red hair that had fallen into his eyes.

He looked away. "You're amazing, Hermione, but... what am I? Just the regular sidekick. The Boy-Who-Lived's best mate. Nothing out of the ordinary. But you, you're brilliant. You're smart and caring, and you have the weirdest humor I've ever heard of. You're endearing and beautiful, but above all, you're _strong._" He smiled at her, and wiped away a tear from her cheek. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. "You've had one of the most talented Quidditch players of all time fawning over you. I can barely say a word without sounding like a wanker."

Her head snapped up. "Stop," she said. She didn't understand this. Didn't he understand that she had... _loved _him for years? Probably before he even knew she was a girl? Didn't he see how special he was? That he was bright, almost too bright, but he just didn't use it?

She couldn't put her desperate thoughts into words, so she kissed him again. It was tender and caring and it showed how much she... loved him. Not _in spite_ of his faults, but _because _of them. Because, what would Ron Weasley be without his clumsiness? His red ears? His swearing?

Hermione was only sure of one thing. He wouldn't have been _Ron Weasley. _

He returned the kiss almost desperately, and suddenly it wasn't _heat_ that steered them.

It was love.

-------------------

When they entered the common room hand in hand almost an hour later, they were both flushed and positively giddy. They stopped in front of the stairs that led to the girl's dormitories. Hermione grinned and leaned up to plant a quick kiss on Ron's lips. But he had other plans, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back, holding her flush against him, he kissed her slowly, taking in her taste and scent and enjoying the feel of her small breaths against his face. He pulled away a minute later, planting a small kiss on her nose and making her blush and wrinkle it, beaming happily at him.

"Goodnight, then," she whispered.

"G'night," he murmured, holding ther entwined hands to his chest.

She then turned around and slowly walked up the stairs, dropping his hand and leaving him to admire her retreating form. She stopped at the top of the stairs and turned around again, smiling shyly at him. He winked at her and she giggled and continued for her bed.

He sighed happily and walked over to the couch to slump down on it. Then he grabbed a cushion and hugged it. Suddenly embarrassed, he cleared his throat and let it go, puffing it manly.

He heard a low chuckle and spun around to look who had uttered it. No one were there except him. He frowned and looked around thoroughly, he thought he had recognized the chuckle...

"Harry?" he called uncertainly.

Suddenly, he heard someone bursting out laughing and spun around to find his best mate pulling away his invisibility cloak, clutching the front of his shirt and gasping for breath.

"Oh, crap," he said, wiping tears of laughter from his face. "You really are love sick, mate."

Ron turned very red, and slumped down on the big couch once again. "Whatever," he muttered.

Harry smiled, draped the cloak over the armhold of the couch and sat down next to the redhead.

"I'm really glad for you, though," he said, looking into the fire. "You deserve it."

"Thanks, mate." Ron smiled at him. "I should say the same to you, though, shouldn't I?"

Harry glared at him.

"Or didn't you just earlier today call my baby sister 'a hurricane of red Ginnyness'?" He was really amused now, laughing out loud. Harry reluctantly laughed with him.

"Aren't we a bunch of sad love birds?" he grunted happily.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Ron grinned at his best mate.

"Suppose not," Harry said, then he burst out into crazy laughter once again.

Ron groaned. "What now?"

"I – I just –" Harry gasped "Mate, you _really _have to choose."

"Between what?" Ron was genuinely confused.

Harry could hardly breathe now. "Between Hermione and the couch cushion!"

Ron sighed and slapped him over the head with said cushion.

But as he did, he thought about how lucky he was to have a great sister and two amazing best friends, one of them currently his girlfriend and probably the love of his life

And he broke out into a wide grin.


End file.
